Nightshade (40 page)

The bottom of the page was covered with more questions and some choice rants about the confusing passage. I read it through again. Shay was right; other than the mention of the Scion and the indication that this choice took place at Samhain, the passage made no sense at all. There couldn’t possibly be something happening at the same time as our union. I read the words once more, letting them float to the back of my mind.

At lunch none of the wolves objected when Shay pulled up a chair, especially since he made the politically astute decision to sit between Neville and Bryn rather than next to me. But even with Shay present, our entourage had a gaping hole.

“So, did you find Ren?” I asked Dax.

He made an affirmative grunt.

“And?” I frowned at his nonverbal response.

“And he’s fine.” Dax shoved a slice of pizza into his mouth. “You’ll see him tonight.”

I looked at Fey. She glanced at Dax, who shook his head. She turned to me and shrugged before becoming incredibly interested in her lunch.

I raised an eyebrow but decided to drop the subject.

 

By the end of the school day a gentle snowfall had developed. The pattern of swirling flakes behind the tall stained glass windows of Rowan Estate’s library made the jewel tones ripple.

Shay drummed his pencil on the notebook in front of him as I flopped down into a chair. “So, are you going to be okay tonight?”

I focused on digging in my own bag for a pen, but I nodded. “I hope so.”

“Calla.” His voice grew tense. “There’s something I need to say, and I’m only going to say it once. I really need you to listen.”

My fingers gripped the canvas bag tightly. “Shay—”

He waved off the warning note in my response.

“Sorry, but I have to. Please look at me.”

I lifted my gaze to meet his. Shay’s jaw was set.

“I know I’ve really pushed you about your feelings for Ren and your loyalty to the Keepers. What happened yesterday, with Flynn and then in chem class, made me realize just how much what I’ve been doing puts you and the others in danger. I don’t want that.”

He stood up and walked to the massive fireplace, staring up at the portrait of his parents. “So I’m backing off. After tonight I’ll leave you and Ren alone. You’re going to be with him. I know that, and I know how much you have at stake now that you know the truth about the Keepers. I don’t want to put you at risk any more than you already are.”

“Shay, that’s—” I began.

“I’m not finished.” He stayed where he was, not looking at me. “You need to understand that in no way does this mean I’m—” I watched his shoulders slump. When he spoke again, his voice was thick, husky. “Conceding to him. You know how I feel about you. That won’t change.”

I pulled my eyes off him, faltering as my throat closed. “It’s true that you’ll keep us all safer by giving Ren and me some distance. Especially while you’re adjusting to your wolf instincts. As for the rest of it . . .” I could barely hear my own voice over the pounding of my heart. When I turned to look at him, he was standing right behind me, eyes filled with that warm spring-like glow.

“I belong to Ren,” I said, hating the words, wishing Shay could kiss me and make the rest of the world disappear. “There’s nothing I can do to change that.”

“You belong to yourself,” he said quietly. “And I can wait for you to figure that out.”

Shaken by his words, I pulled out the notes he’d given me that morning, not wanting to think about how little time we had left. He bent over my shoulder.

“So what did you make of that?”

“Nothing new.” I handed him the piece of paper. “Except what you’ve already said.”

“What do you think the ‘harvest child’ means?” He frowned at his own scribblings.

“I think it means more research.” I slid back my chair.

“Hang on,” he said, pushing a book along the surface of the table into my hands. “I thought you’d want to see this for yourself.”

I opened the cover and stared at the handwritten title page.
Haldis Annals
. The years inscribed below were the first five of my own life.

“Ren’s mother?” I murmured.

He nodded. I fell silent as I paged through the book until I found the entry. Shay sat quietly while I read, though he stirred when I closed the text, brushing tears from my cheeks.

“My parents were there,” I said. “The Keepers sent the Nightshades after the Searchers. But the pack didn’t know . . . no one knew what had happened to Corinne. The Keepers gave her to a wraith.”

“Calla—” He reached for me, but I backed away, shaking my head.

“I’ll be fine.” I headed for the spiral staircase that led to the balcony. “We have work to do.”

About twenty minutes later I returned with an armload of texts, dropping them on the table. I picked up the largest of the books, offering Shay a thin smile, and began to read.

We sat side by side, the silence of the library broken intermittently by the scratch of a pencil or the crackle of a turning page. Shadows poured into the room while the large grandfather clock in the corner chimed the passing of another hour.

I blinked at the paragraph I’d been reading about Sabbat rituals. “Hey.” I read it again.

Shay rubbed his eyes, yawning. “Find something?”

I scanned another page of
The Great Rites.
“Maybe. When’s your birthday?”

He didn’t look up from his reading. “August first.”

I clapped. The noise made him jump.

“What?”

I leapt to my feet, spinning in mini-celebration. “It’s you! You’re the harvest child. They’re interchangeable terms—the Scion and the harvest child are the same person.”

“What are you talking about?” he said. “My birthday is the middle of the summer; wouldn’t the harvest child have been born in autumn, when people are actually harvesting?”

“No.” My grin broadened. “This is where my research pays off. Since I was reading about Samhain, I decided to read about the other Sabbats. The first of August is the witches’ harvest in the Wheel of the Year.
You
are the harvest child; it has to be you. We finally found something!”

He blinked at me and then looked back at the crinkled page we’d been handing back and forth all afternoon. “So it’s all about me. This passage . . . whatever is supposed to happen at the Samhain rite.”

My smile faded at the sight of his worried face. “Yes, yes, it is.”

“Samhain,” he murmured. “That’s tonight.”

“Yes.” I chewed on my lip. “But nothing’s happening with you tonight. There’s no way. All the Keepers are focused on the union. That’s where they’ll be. It has nothing to do with the Scion—tonight’s ritual is only about the new pack.”

“Well, the prophecy just states the day, not the year,” he said. “And prophecies are about the future, right?”

“You think it’s a far-off event?”

“It must be.” He nodded, but his eyes were still troubled. “At least that’s some sort of progress,” he said, glancing at his watch. “Didn’t you say Bryn was coming over at five thirty to get you ready for your big night?”

“Yeah, why?”

“It’s six.” He turned the watch face toward me.

“She’s going to kill me.” I began stuffing my notes into my bag. “We won’t have time to hang out at Blood Moon.”

“I thought you were getting ready for the union.” He frowned.

“We are,” I said. “But the ceremony is near the site of the ball. Everyone involved gathers at Blood Moon to dance and drink for a couple of hours so they can all toast our health or something. But we’ll leave and go to the Samhain ritual while the humans are still distracted by the party.”

“I see,” Shay murmured.

I didn’t want to leave him, but there was nothing left to say. No shared laughter could dull this pain.

I pulled on my coat and he nodded. His smile couldn’t mask the sadness in his eyes. “Good luck, Calla.”

“THERE. THAT’S THE LAST ONE.” BRYN
turned me around so she could make her inspection.

“Why are there so many buttons?” I asked, wondering how I would ever get the dress off again.

“They’re called embellishments, Calla. Your mother loves them.” She pointed an eye shadow brush at me. “Are you sure you don’t want makeup? I could at least do your eyes. Really make them pop.”

“No. No makeup.” I wondered why I’d want my eyes to “pop”; it sounded grotesque. “I agreed to let you do my hair. But I do not wear makeup.” I was trying hard not to be sick; if anything popped, it was going to be my stomach.

“You’re going to ruin it.” She slapped my hand away as I reached to touch the carefully pinned arrangement of curls she had expertly piled on the top of my head. “No touching. Are you sure about the eyes?”

I smiled at Bryn. She was stunning. More than stunning. Her chin-length ringlets were styled much in the usual way, but their bronze highlights shimmered in contrast to the inky shade of her silk empire-waisted gown, which skimmed her body like it had been spun from the night sky. It wasn’t fair. Bryn and the other Haldis females would go to the union in subtle beauty, like priestesses of a dark goddess. I looked like a wedding cake, and I was sure it was my mother’s fault.

“No eyes, no lips. Nothing.” I gestured to my floor-length gown. “This is plenty. Any more and I will spontaneously combust.”

“Fine.” She packed her beauty supplies into what resembled a large toolbox.

There was a light knock at the door. Ansel’s muffled voice sounded anxious from the other side.

“Are you guys done yet? Mason’s already called twice. The rest of the pack thought we’d gone into a ditch or something.”

I glanced at Bryn. “Do you have some sort of grand entrance planned?”

“Nah. He can come in.”

“Okay, Ansel. We’re ready,” I called.

The door swung open and Ansel stepped inside. Bryn pivoted on her sharp heels, ambushing him with a devastating smile. My brother stopped in his tracks. He paled, then flushed bright red, and then paled again. His lips parted, but only a strangled sound bubbled from his throat, and he abandoned his attempt at speech for the sake of sighing.

Bryn crossed the room and took his hands. “Thank you.”

She brushed his cheek with her lips and began to turn back to me. But Ansel grabbed her, kissing her full on the lips while she melted into his arms. I looked away, feeling foolish for the biting jealousy that struck me whenever Ansel and Bryn were together.
They found each other and they’re happy. What if I’ve found happiness that I have to leave behind?

After an uncomfortable period where I stared at my shoes, Bryn murmured: “We’ll continue this conversation later.”

“I didn’t hear that, and I’m turning around now,” I said.

Ansel grinned at me, lipstick covering his mouth.

“You need to go wash your face.” I laughed.

“Oh, right. You look great by the way,” he said before he headed for the bathroom.

Bryn bounced back toward me, fishing in her handbag for lipstick, skin flushed, nearly glowing, and I wanted to hit her out of spite. I doubted I’d be glowing from happiness during the ceremony.

Ansel reappeared at the door, jangling the car keys. “Let’s get this party started.”

 

The three of us stood watching dancers twirl on the other side of French doors that separated the ballroom from the garden terrace. Blood Moon was hosted by Efron Bane and took place at one of his five-star hotels on the outskirts of Vail, a palatial Victorian resort that rested on the edge of a dense forest. At the far end of the ballroom a chamber orchestra sent waltzes soaring through the air. Dark satin draperies, floor-to-ceiling stained glass windows, and hundreds of candelabras made the atmosphere appropriately Halloweenish. A near-translucent paper sphere, dyed red, cocooned the ballroom’s chandelier, washing the room in ochre hues. Our very own Blood Moon.

An ornate table along one wall featured a huge cauldron, complete with dry-ice smoke spilling out and as many delectable hors d’oeuvres and desserts as one could imagine. Keepers, Guardians, and humans alike swirled to the music decked in their finest. Viewing them through the blur of the glass doors was like watching an array of brightly colored baubles float past.

“It’s no Eden, but it looks nice enough.” Bryn winked at me. “Too bad we can’t join in.”

“I said I was sorry about being late,” I muttered.

“I can’t believe you were tutoring on the night of your union,” she said with a pointed stare, pulling me away from Ansel and whispering. “You and Shay must really like your classes. Care to fill me in on that? Do you have some tips you’d like to offer me and Ansel?”

“I already told Ansel you guys had the wrong idea,” I said. “Didn’t he fill
you
in?”

“I thought maybe you’d have a different answer for me,” she said. “You know—girl talk. If you wanna spill before you walk down the aisle, now’s the time.”